Revenence: Dead Silence, A Zombie Novel (3 page)

 

They had some frozen TV dinners that evening.  Fauna said they might as well save the canned and dry food.  "Might as well use the cold stuff first,  just in case of the unlikely event that somethin' happens.  Fridge or freezer breaks down, I'd really hate to see all that good food go to waste, especially in light of all that's goin' on."

They sat at a small stool-height table near the large sliding doors, eating their dinner.  The view beyond the balcony was stunning, rolling hills and new, green spring foliage as far as the eye could see.  In the distance, she saw the gravel road ribboning its way through the hills scenically.

"Shari...is that middle eastern or somethin'?"

"Indian.  My grandparents on my mother's side were from India.  My dad's side is American.  His ancestors have been here since early colonial days."

"I thought you looked a little, uh...exotic. I mean that in a good way.  I'm not like some of the racist rednecks around here."  She grinned.  "I mean, I
am
a redneck, but I don't have a racist bone in my body. You've got a very pretty face.  Wouldn't hardly know you're half white, though.  If you don't mind my sayin', I bet you and your mama have experienced some racism out here in the country."

"Well, my parents live in a good-sized town near the border in Illinois with a lot of different types of people.  But yes, there are always at least a handful of racists no matter where you go.  And it only got worse when I moved out on my own further south, to a small town in the middle of nowhere.  I wanted to be out  in the country, though.  My closest neighbors are almost a mile away, and I like that.  I like the privacy.  Land was cheap out there, so that's where I found my dream house and settled."

"So you a hermit or somethin'?  I gotta say, you don't look like no hermit I ever seen."

"No, I have a job, friends, even date every now and then.  I just like knowing that at the end of the day, I can go home to my house, my garden, my horse.  I can sit on my porch in my little nightie in the morning and smoke a joint and no one can see me, you know what I mean?  I like that.  I can just have peace and privacy out there.  I mean, I could until now.  Now, I don't even want to try and guess what's going to happen.  I hope to make it home, feed my horse, have life go back to normal.  But I don't foresee that happening with all that's going on.  I'll be lucky to survive."

"As long as you're with me, you got nothin' to worry about.  I can't help but feel that in situations like these, it's our responsiblity to do whatever we can to help our fellow human beings, even strangers.  Keep as many of us as possible alive," she said, gesturing toward the road, "and not like them."

"I wonder how many more people are alive around here, besides us."

"Well, no tellin', really. I would hope the ones who are still safe are smart enough to stay put, at least until they know how to deal with these things.  Let the dust settle a little, as it were.  I got horses, so when it is time to go out into the world again, I'd suggest usin' those, and not a vehicle. Horses can get where cars can't, especially with pile-ups all over the place.  Another perk, horses don't need gas.  Who knows if there'll be any of that left by the time we do venture out?  You mentioned you had a horse back at home...you know how to ride?"

"Yeah, that's one thing I know how to do pretty well.  I went to the state fair every year for riding in 4H, every year between eight and eighteen.  I grew up in a subdivision, but I spent a lot of time at my grandparents' farm outside of town.  They let me keep my own horse there.  My grandma taught me.  Everything I know about horseback riding and gardening, I learned from her."

"You a Western or English style rider?"

"I learned both."

"Know how to saddle 'em up and everythin'?" Shari nodded. "Good, 'cause I got a strong suspicion that's a skill that's gonna come in handy.  I got three horses in the barn over yonder, but I don't think it's a good idea to plan on leavin' here just yet.  We got everythin' we need here for now."

"I was hoping to make it to my parents house, see if they're okay, but..." Shari trailed off, her voice cracking.  She felt for the first time like she might cry. She supposed it was a survival instinct, waiting to cry until she was in a safe enough place to let her guard down. 

"But you know it's not a good idea," Fauna finished for her in the softest, gentlest voice she'd heard from the woman yet.  "I'm bettin' wherever your parents are, the last thing they'd want is for you to leave someplace safe to go rushin' off into this mess tryin' to find 'em, which you probably won't, anyway."  Shari began to sob.  "You go ahead and cry, girl, get it out.  Healthier for your  mind that way."

             

      It was dark, around nine o'clock, and they were sitting on the sofa, passing a joint back and forth.  Fauna had pulled a plastic baggie out of the cabinet built into the coffee table.."You mentioned herb earlier," she had said to Shari with a grin.  "I thought you might like to try a little Kentucky homegrown.  Since we're safe up here, it should be alright to let our guard down a little.  Lord knows I could use it, and I'm bettin' you could, too."  A kerosene lamp on the table in front of them cast flickering shadows on the sides of the room.  Although the undead couldn't get into the garage, let alone up to the loft, they didn't think it was wise to make their presence known any more than absolutely necessary.  That meant no turning on the fluorescent lights lining the ceiling overhead.

"So what about you?" Shari was asking.  "Where were you when you found out about all this?  Here at home?"

Fauna took a deep lungful of smoke, slowly exhaling a dark, dense cloud into the dimly-lit room.  "I had rode up to the state park, about five miles away. Took Eva, the best and most bombproof horse I got, and boy, am I glad  I did.  I was gonna go riding on one of them trails they got up there.   I rode past the campground, up the trail a bit.  You keep taking that trail, you get to a cliff, and this partticular cliff affords a good view of the river and the campground below.  Real scenic, you know, they have weddings up there and such.  And I was just sitting up there, relaxing and enjoying the view.  That was earlier this mornin', before the storm blew in, and the sky was clear and blue.  Beautiful mornin'.  And as I'm sittin' up there, I hear a commotion down at the campground.  I look down, and it looks like somebody's having a heart attack.  An old man.  I think he was there with his wife and family, kids and grandkids, I assume.  Well, it wasn't even a minute before he seemed to be dead.  The family had taken out their cell phones, and so had some other people nearby and some cyclists who had stopped.  But they were all yellin' about how they couldn't get through to 911.  I took out my phone and tried from up there on the cliff.  I thought maybe I'd have more luck up there.  At first when they said they couldn't reach 911, I thought they meant that they couldn't get a signal on their cells.  I found out real quick that they meant that the line was busy...the
damn line was busy!
"  She paused as Shari passed her the joint, taking a puff and handing it back.  "That was about the time I saw my neighbor's son run up, Bob Jensen.  He must've been up there ridin' to.  He hopped down off his horse and offered to try and help 'til the ambulance got there, him bein' an EMT and all.  He started to go through the routine, and confirmed that the man most likely had a heart attack, and said he couldn't feel a pulse.  So I sat there for maybe another five minutes tryin' to get through to 911, and everyone down below was doing the same.  No luck, though.  Bob apologized to the family, and said the man was gone.  He hadn't had a breath or heartbeat the whole time he had been there.  And that was when it got real bad all of a sudden.  Bob was still leaned down next to the man, and that's when that ol' man tore Bob's throat out with his teeth.  I just sat there, horrified, while the family and some others who had witnessed it started screamin' and runnin'.   Some of the other people in nearby tents and campers took off for their cars, and others just froze up. A few got in their campers to hide in there.  The cyclists took off.  The family with the kids got into their SUV, started the ignition, while the one I presume to be his wife just wept and stood frozen to the spot.  She was next.  She never ran.  She was just so shocked and confused.  She should have been grievin', not runnin' for her life.  In the SUV, the mom and kids were cryin', and the dad must've tryin' to think of what he should do, still tryin' to mess with his phone.  That is, until dear ol' granddad took off runnin' toward 'em.  Then he finally cut his losses and got outta that parking lot, turned out onto the road toward town.  Well, that cliff I was up on, that cliff's the end of the trail.  And there's only had one way down, and that was back the way I had come, out past the campground.  Now I had seen that old man run fast, probably faster than he could while he was still alive and well, but I knew my horse was still faster.  As I got down the hill and close to the campground, I slapped the reins and yelled so ol' Eva knew it was serious.  As I rounded the curve on the path and rode past the campsite, I saw that Bob Jensen and the old woman were both runnin' around too.  Funny thing is, the family had a few horses tied to the post near their camper, and those horses were fine.  And it's not like they'd have been able to run if they had to.   Should've been an easy target.  There were dogs too, chained up here and there at the campground and picnic area.  Those things, those zombies, just wanted no part of 'em. I just rode the hell outta there, all the way back home.  Saw your car comin' on my way in, knew you'd want to avoid the accidents up ahead on the road.  That's why the garage door was still open when you got here.  I knew you'd show up.  And the rest," she concluded, "is history."

             
Shari sat quietly for a moment.  "That's a shame about your neighbor," she said.  "This is a time where we need as many EMTs and nurses and doctors as we can get."

"You're right," Fauna responded.  "But I'm bettin' this is only the beginning.  Somethin' tells me there are gonna be a lot more neighbors and friends and relatives lost.  Some useful people and some plain ol' good people, and the bad ones too.  The guilty and the innocent alike.  But one thing I know, and I know it for sure--this is no time to look back.  No time to regret or wish.  And don't you ever forget that, Shari.  When the sun comes up tomorrow, it'll be shinin' on a different world."

             
    

          PART II:  THE INCUBATOR

Shari stood in an unfamiliar, decaying house.  The floorboards looked as if they'd give way like wet cardboard if she stepped on them, and there were wide gaps between them.  She realized she wasn't alone, and she watched in amazement as a masked belly dancer danced wildly, feverishly, as if she wasn't aware that the floor was about to collapse beneath her.  Her hips swung erratically, her hair flailed around her as she whipped her head back and forth.  Shari approached her tentatively, conscientiously avoiding the cracks in the floor, each step deliberate.  The figure stopped cold, snapping her head in Shari's direction. 
Those eyes are familar,
Shari thought.  "Mom?" she said timidly, reaching out to touch her.  All at once, the flesh of the woman's upper face, her arms and back, her belly, her legs, all rotted away.  The figure she was now gawking at was nothing more than a skeleton with jerkied skin stretched over it.  The atrophied belly dancer raised its osseous hand, pointing into the next room.

Shari carefully crossed into the room, a kitchen, which appeared to be a dilapidated version of the one in her childhood home.  On the table was the lovingly prepared feast, now spoiled, that she and her mother were to have made.  It was the one her family was supposed to be eating on Easter Sunday.  She walked up to the table, gazing into a cup of chai tea.  The milk swirled in the tea, and she watched as the pattern took on a familiar form...planet Earth.  As she continued peering into the cup, she saw a lit match fly through space, igniting the earth as it passed.  The blaze was extinguished after a moment, and as the smoke cleared Shari saw the green of the land masses and the blue of the oceans.  They were sparkling brilliantly, alive with color...color more vivid than any she had ever seen in her life.  She was jerked out of her reverie by a sinister laugh.  She looked behind her...the belly dancer was standing directly behind her.  She jumped, startled, and sank through the floorboards, falling into the dark basement below.

             

      She awoke in the queen-size bed that sat in the corner near the balcony.  Fauna had spent the night in a recliner looking out the balcony doors, unable to rest.  A survivalist can't help but keep watch, she had told Shari.

"You can keep an eye out tomorrow, return the favor while I sleep," she had said.  "You just rest.  You need it."

Shari took her toothbrush and toothpaste from her duffel bag, which she had retrieved from the car the previous night before the sun had gone down.  She brushed her teeth and washed her face, then joined Fauna on the balcony, where she sat on a lounger looking through a pair of binoculars. 

"Good morning," Shari said as she sat down in the other lounger.  "See anything?"

"Nothin' good," Fauna replied.  "World fulla dangers out there."  She turned toward Shari.  "And it's time you start learnin' how to take care of yourself.  A girl's gotta be prepared to defend herself out there, now more than ever.  Today, I'm gonna give you your first bow lesson."

"I'm in no position to argue," Shari said, surveying the surrounding countryside.  Thick, black smoke clouds were dotting the horizon, presumably from both car accidents and house fires.  She could only imagine the kind of chaos that was ensuing outside of the relative safety of Fauna's property, past the thick, crowded sentry of near-ancient hundred-foot-tall pines lining the road.  Her mind raced, thinking of what would happen in larger towns and cities, of what would happen to her friends and family.  She thought of the one who had called himself
I_eat_libtards_for_breakfast
, and supposed that if the zombies had hit Green Bay, there was a good chance he had made good on his name this morning.

Other books

One Dead Seagull by Scot Gardner
Armageddon by Thomas E. Sniegoski
New York One by Tony Schumacher
Sacred Sins by Nora Roberts
The Dress Lodger by Holman, Sheri
Althea and Oliver by Cristina Moracho
The Jew's Wife & Other Stories by Thomas J. Hubschman